Messiah
by Empatheia
Summary: -Aizen- A high and lonely destiny.


**A/N: **For the April round of Bleach flashfics on LiveJournal. One of the many theories I have on what path the manga may take, but not one of the ones I have much hope for. That's why I chose to write it out-- because I don't think the manga will ever do it for me. (It'd be freaking cool if it did, though. I love character redemption.)

One small warning: this does contain one original character. I'm sorry, it couldn't be helped. Canon hasn't yet revealed his identity or anything about him, so I had little choice but to make it up. I hope you like him. -wink-

In any case, I hope you enjoy the fic.

**xxxxx**

_**Messiah**_

**xxxxxx**

Some days, he wonders what would happen if he told them the truth.

He pictures their expressions, the swift protective walls of denial rising in their eyes, the slow horror that follows when they realize that such denial is useless. It cannot live long faced with the blazing light he could show them, proof of his honesty.

They would weep, and self-justify, and die-- as if dying would prove them right in the end.

Some days the urge to open his mouth and tell them everything is so overwhelming he nearly has to bite his tongue off to stop himself.

xxxxx

Las Noches smells of blood.

Some of it belongs to the intruders. Some of it belongs to the army he created. Either way, it doesn't matter. It all boils down to suffering in the end. Whose is irrelevant.

Aizen tilts his head back and stares expressionlessly at the ceiling high above. This white palace he built... it is so cold, always. It was never meant to be comfortable, but sometimes he wishes he could make it just a little bit warmer. He cannot. Everything must be perfect to make the great deception work. All who come here must see it as a demon's lair, cruel and glaring and devoid of comfort. They must see it as a place where nothing human can live for long. It is merely unfortunate that in order to deceive them, he must actually make it such a place, then live there.

He has not been warm for months.

xxxxx

Some days, the lie seems so obvious he wonders how no one has figured it out yet.

There are intelligent people among them. They are not all fools. They are simply all blinded by their own conviction in the truth they have decided on, to the point where they simply cannot accept the possibility of a different truth.

The signs are all there. All it would take is one person willing to see, and everything would be laid bare.

Aizen understands humanity too well to be very afraid of that.

xxxxx

They fight so hard.

Despite himself, he admires them. They are blind, yes, but beautiful in their determination to protect what they care for.

Aizen understands. If only they knew just how well.

He can't afford to be soft now, though, not after he's already come so far. He closes his eyes and spills their blood. He can do it only because he knows what they do not, and even so he does not enjoy it. The ones who die do so without understanding anything at all. That seems terribly unjust, but there is no alternative.

They fight, and they die, and his goal comes closer and closer with every last breath.

xxxxx

There are one hundred seventeen thousand five hundred and twenty-three people living in Karakura Town when Aizen destroys it.

History will never forgive him for this, he knows. Even when he explains it, it will still be too great and inhuman for their understanding.

Aizen is fine with that. He understood the consequences when he first accepted this mission, and he is not cowardly or weak enough to back out over such a juvenile thing. Still, it hurts. It would hurt more, but he has Gin and Tousen, who also understand, and that is two more people who understand than most people ever get in their short, sad lives.

Karakura dies, and the key is made.

It is small and black and unadorned, hardly the size of his index finger. Aizen stares at it for many minutes, trying to fit his mind around just how many lives had gone into the creation of such a tiny thing. When he succeeds, he comes the closest to weeping that he has in all these long years of planning.

Almost finished.

xxxxx

The king is surprisingly small.

He has chosen the form of a small, golden-haired child, with a capricious smile and sparkling green eyes.

Perhaps that is to throw him off guard. It doesn't work. Aizen is prepared for anything, and this is not more than he can handle.

"You would take my throne for yourself?" the king says mockingly. "You dream highly, for an insect."

Aizen wonders how old the king is in this incarnation. The records do not say it clearly, but best he can tell, at least five thousand years he has been sitting on that throne, dictating the course of the mortal world. There have been some who stood against him earlier, but they are portrayed as traitors, despised and spat upon. History is written by the victor, and the king has always been the victor.

Until today. He knows something the king does not, and is not afraid of defeat.

He told Soul Society three things before his departure: that Heaven stood empty, that he would sit in its throne, and that he would do so after overthrowing the king who blocked his path.

Two of those are lies. Only the latter is even partially true.

Facing the king, he smiles. "Good night," he says gently.

Gin and Tousen step up to stand beside him, silent but supportive. They are there to catch him if anything goes wrong. He is glad of their presence.

The king frowns, cherubic face at odds with the dark light of intelligence in his eyes. "I am mystified," he says. "What do you think you could possibly do against me? I have sat in this place longer than a thousand human lifespans, and have not done it by sheer luck. Nothing you can do will harm me in the slightest, no matter how much power you have acquired in your short, mortal life. Give up and get out. I have no time for you."

Aizen ignores him. The king does not know. "Sleep well."

He reaches out to that smug face, curves a large hand around it almost tenderly. The king's eyes, previously so fearless and assured, widen suddenly in terror. It is too late. Aizen has already won.

It is not as climactic as he had always imagined. The king does not fly into a fury and try and rend him limb from limb. He does not transform into a mighty dragon and breath wrathful fire until everything about him is turned to ash and cinders. He simply sags in his chair and looks like someone ready to weep.

"You..." he whispers, then smiles sadly. "I suppose I should have expected this. I simply did not expect it so soon." He stands, takes a deep breath.

"You overstepped the limits they set you," Aizen tells him quietly, regaining his balance after the king's unexpected reaction.

"I know," says the king, looking for a moment inexpressibly old despite his bright young face. Then his smile fades and he reaches out to take Aizen's hand. "You are a brave man," he says. "Few would have had the strength. I feel no shame, if it is by your hand that judgement comes."

Aizen steps back and draws his blade. "They await your return," he tells the child. "They have missed you in your absence. I was not sent to pass judgement-- that is beyond me. I was only asked to send you home."

"Your name... Aizen Sousuke, correct? And your companions are Ichimaru Gin and Tousen Kaname?" the king says, smile returning in full force. "I will remember those names, and put in a good word for you."

"Much appreciated," replies Aizen drily. Tousen and Gin, behind him, concur quietly.

It is time.

His blade flashes through the air, draws a bright line through the center of the king's small body, splits that eternal smile in half. The king dissolves into light and vanishes. This is the truest, deepest form of soul burial, at the highest level it was created for.

The world is freed.

Nothing really feels very different at all. It is almost disappointing.

Aizen straightens his spine and turns to face his comrades. "Good work. There is more to be done, though, of course. Will you follow me?"

"Always," they reply instantly, as he'd known they would.

Together, they turn and leave the palace of the king.

"Who was he?" Tousen asks just before they step through the gate. "I have an idea, but it is no better than a guess."

Aizen tells him.

He steps through the gate just as Tousen's eyes widen and Gin's smile widens to impossible proportions.

The survivors will want their explanation.

He is finally allowed to give it to them.

xxxxx

They are gathered at the foot of his throne, the tattered remnants of a once-great establishment.

Kurosaki Ichigo. Kuchiki Rukia. Inoue Orihime. Sado Yasutora. Ishida Uryuu. Kuchiki Byakuya. Unohana Retsu. Kotetsu Isane. Zaraki Kenpachi. Kusajishi Yachiru. Yamada Hanatarou. Kurotsuchi Mayuri. Kurotsuchi Nemu.

He knows their names, all of them who were in Hueco Mundo and thus spared by the Inoue girl's power. He is glad they are alive. They can be his witnesses.

Ichigo, predictably, is their ambassador. He steps forward, hands clenched at his sides. His face is terrible, wrought with agony, guilt, and grief over their defeat and all the lives they failed to save. He is such a good boy. He will be a great man soon. People like him will be needed.

"Why did you bring us here?" he asks.

Aizen had hoped for a better first question, but this will have to do. "Because," he says, with a feeling of relief so great it feels much like dissolving, "I want to tell you the truth."

"What truth?" asks Ichigo, clearly puzzled.

A much better question. "Mine," he says. He has never felt so peaceful in his entire life. "Ask your questions. I will answer."

They ask.

He answers.

xxxxx

"The king is dead?"

"Yes."

"You killed him?"

"Not precisely. He was not 'alive,' not as you think of it. I sent him elsewhere... home."

"...Home? What home?"

"Heaven."

"I thought you said it was empty."

"I lied. It was necessary that you believe taking its throne to be my ambition."

"Why?"

"If you had known the truth, the king would have also known. He has his spies. Only those closest to me and most trusted could know the truth, otherwise he would be forewarned and change the lock, so to speak. The king's key had to work, and so you had to be deceived."

"Deceived how? If ruling in heaven wasn't your intention, what was?"

"I would not presume to rule in heaven. It already has a ruler, one whom I have no desire or need to replace. That person gave me a mission, and the power to carry it out, but warned me that no one must know the true nature of it, or it would fail. My true intention was to carry out that mission."

"What mission?"

"To defeat the king of Soul Society and return him to his rightful place, so that humanity could follow the course Heaven intended for it."

"Rightful place? What do you mean?"

"The king of Soul Society was not a human. You may have guessed this already from his power and life span, but I shall elaborate: he was, as we humans think of it, an angel. A higher being, who ran away from Heaven several millennia ago in rebellion against its ruler."

"That sounds weirdly familiar."

"I am not surprised. He is known on Earth as Lucifer, Son of Morning, and hated as a demon. This is incorrect. He is not a demon. He is simply an angel more human than most."

"Lucifer? The Devil? You're kidding, right?"

"I assure you that I am not."

"No way... but anyways, what do you mean, 'more human than most?'"

"Angels are peaceful beings. They desire little. Lucifer desired much-- power, influence, to truly live. He was full of passion for the mortal world, but because of his immortal nature, could never truly be part of it. Instead, he chose to rule it, and over time grew enamoured of his power as such, as any human would. He quickly overstepped the boundaries of influence any angel is allowed, but Heaven decided that his insubordination provided a good opportunity for humanity to grow, and allowed him to stay."

"Opportunity to grow? How did he overstep the boundaries?"

"One question at a time, boy. I am very powerful but I can still only speak with one voice."

"Sorry. Um, how about I put it this way: what did Lucifer do as king?"

"A better question. After becoming addicted to power, he set about ensuring that he would not be overthrown. To do this, he created a veil between the worlds of the living and the worlds of the dead that would erase the memories of all who passed through it. No matter what power or wisdom a soul acquired during its life and subsequent death, it would all be taken away the moment it was reincarnated. Thus, no soul could ever have enough time to reach the level of power necessary to oppose him.

Earth he left to its own devices. The short lives and shorter foresight of humans ensured that it would remain divisive and focused on internal conflicts. It was never a threat. Those in Soul Society lived longer, and so he took greater precautions there by taking over the council of the Central 46. He turned them into mindless dolls who followed his orders exactly, but they appeared exactly as they always had and so no one suspected. He had a very subtle mind."

"So you mean... he made people forget who they were in past lives?"

"I believe I just said that, yes."

"Sorry. It's just hard to believe."

"I understand. I was quite astonished when I first learned of this as well."

"When did you find out?"

"A messenger from Heaven approached me soon after my most recent death. The messenger explained everything to me and asked me to undertake a mission of utmost secrecy-- that of deposing Lucifer."

"You make it sound like you were the good guy."

"You assume that I am not."

"You killed hundreds of thousands of people to accomplish this mission. How could you possibly be the good guy?"

"Ah, I see. You have not yet fully grasped the implications of the king's defeat. Death is not a permanent thing, as you know. It is merely a relocation of the soul in question from Earth to Soul Society or Hueco Mundo or Hell, or vice versa. The real tragedy has always been the loss of memory that occurs in between-- a dead person reincarnated no longer remembered those he or she cared for in life. All the value of what they had learned in their tenure as a mortal being was lost. You must realize that that is no longer so. Death and reincarnation are now only temporary separations, as Heaven always intended. Strong bonds between souls will no longer be forgotten between lives. The cycle will no longer be blind."

"I'm not sure I--"

"In other words, all those people in Karakura Town I killed were merely relocated to Soul Society proper, and will soon be reincarnated with all their memories intact."

"What about people who had bad lives and want to forget?"

"Another good question. I suspect a certain scientist will figure out how to duplicate the memory-erasing veil the king created, and make forgetting a voluntary thing. Those who have led painful lives and followed the wrong paths will have the option of starting anew if they so choose."

"Oh. That... makes sense."

"I am a sensible person."

"So... you really are the good guy, then."

"If you insist on thinking of it in such simplistic terms, then yes. I am the 'good guy.' The signs were all there. You simply refused to see them... for which I am glad. It would not have gone nearly so smoothly if you had."

"What signs? We didn't see anything like that."

"Of course not. That was the point. But why do you think I did not kill every captain in Soul Society before I left? The power Heaven bequeathed me would have been more that enough to do just that. You saw it for yourself, when I stopped your bankai with one finger. I could have killed everyone there in the time it takes to breathe three times, but I killed no one. No one wondered why."

"That's..."

"Another example: my Arrancar. Why do you think I created them from Hollows, and gave them no conscience?"

"I don't know. Why did you?"

"Because without a conscience, they would feel no pain at doing what they must. I knew I would have to ask them to kill many people to fulfil my mission, and that they would be hated by their victims for it. I did not want to inflict the pain of being hated on them. I wanted it to be my burden alone."

"What about Tousen and Gin? You seemed okay with letting them suffer."

"They are my comrades. I trusted them to stay strong no matter how their opponents vilified them, no matter what guilt they suffered through."

"You knew everyone would hate you for all of this, and still did it? You're either crazy, or a saint. Maybe both."

"I would never claim to be a saint, but neither am I mad. I simply knew the truth, and had little choice but to act on it."

"No, that's wrong. You had the choice. You could have just accepted reality as it was and pretended there was nothing you could do."

"You are correct. I should have said it this way-- as the person I am, I had little choice. My own sense of justice would not allow me to sit idle while knowing that there were things I could do. The worlds were twisted, painful, wrong. Given the chance to fix them, bring freedom and offer growth to souls which were being intentionally stagnated... my choice was clear."

"I've... _we've_ spent all this time hating you and fighting you. I don't know if we can erase that so easily."

"I do not expect you to. I have lived all this time expecting the world to hate me, and history to paint me as a traitor. I have not hoped for forgiveness, and do not ask for it now."

"You..."

xxxxx

He gazes down at them from his throne, feeling strangely emptied out. The truth had been such a burden on his soul. Now it was gone, its weight distributed among these souls before him. He felt almost unbearably light.

"Kurosaki-kun," says the Inoue girl, touching Ichigo's arm. "I think he's telling the truth."

"Me too," said Ichigo, brow furrowed, face troubled.

"I am considered a good judge of character," says Unohana Retsu, calm and smiling gently, "and I do not believe he is lying either."

Zaraki Kenpachi turns his head and spits onto the pristine floor of his throne room. "What the fuck. Who even cares about this shit." Despite his callous words, his shoulders are uncharacteristically hunched and he will not meet Aizen's eyes.

He can tell that they are lost. They have no idea what to do with this information now that they have it. It is too drastic a change in perspective for them to assimilate immediately. He can appreciate that, and is obscurely thankful that they are even listening. He is tired of fighting, of killing, of death. "I do not ask you to love me," he says softly. "I only ask you to open your eyes and try and see the truth. Awareness is needed, in all the worlds."

"Hinamori," said Abarai Renji suddenly. "She'll be so happy to hear this. She always... in you... god, if she were anyone else she'd be saying 'I told you so' for the rest of her freaking life."

"Hinamori," echoes Aizen, face softening slightly. "Dear child. I hated using her, but it was necessary. For her to trust me even past what I have done to her is exemplary. She is an extraordinary person. I have always known that, I think. It is why I chose her as my lieutenant over all the other applicants, who were perhaps more qualified."

"You hurt her a lot, you bastard," growls Renji, expression dark with loathing. "She's been crying every night since you left, and nothing I've said has ever helped. I think you kinda broke her, a little. I'll never forgive you for that."

"I do not ask it of you. She was a necessary sacrifice, but not one I am proud of. That she does not hate me is more redemption than I have ever wished for."

"You are a very good actor," points out Sado Yasutora suddenly. "We were all completely convinced."

"It was not difficult," admits Aizen. "I hardly needed to lie at all, and once I made you believe those few falsehoods, the rest fell into place without effort on my part. You believed what you wanted to believe. It is a human trait. I simply used it to my advantage."

Inoue Orihime steps in front of all the others, approaching his throne hesitantly. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears. "It must have been very hard," she whispers. "To do the right thing while making everyone believe you were evil. Weren't you lonely? Didn't it hurt?"

Aizen is taken aback, surprised by the compassion in those eyes. He hadn't expected anything like it. "I did not enjoy it," he says honestly, "but neither do I regret it."

She takes the steps up to his throne one by one, holding his gaze as though waiting for permission. When he does not stop her, she climbs them faster and soon reaches him. "If you're lying, I'll never forgive you," she proclaims. She seems oddly powerful in this moment, shining a little bit brighter than most human souls are usually allowed to. "But I don't think you are. I think you're telling the truth. And if you are, you're a hero, I only wish I'd been good enough for you to trust me with this earlier. I would have liked to have helped."

"You did help," he says quietly. "You were essential to the success of the mission. And do not worry-- your compassion made living in this place much easier to bear, for more than just myself. My Arrancar adore you despite themselves, though I forbade them from making you aware of it. You had to be unhappy. You had to hate me, or the mission might have failed."

"I understand," she says. "I really do."

And then, wonder of wonders, she crosses the final short distance between them and leans down to fold her arms around his neck.

He does not feel pitied. He only feels understood, and accepted, but that is far better than anything he had ever hoped for. He closes his eyes and accepts her forgiveness like a balm to his spirit.

"I have only ever wished to protect that which I care for," he says, very softly. "Just like yourselves."

Unohana steps forward. Her eyes are unreadable. "Do you know where the name 'Aizen' comes from?" she asks.

"Yes," replies Aizen, smiling faintly.

"No," the Inoue girl says. "Where?"

"Aizen Myo'ou," Unohana tells her, and the rest of those watching at the base of the steps. "He was a Buddhist deity who represented the purification of base passion-- sexual lust primarily, but also greed for power-- into compassion for all living things. His task was to save people from the pain that love brings by giving them the ability to see beyond their limited views and desires. He had three faces, and six arms, and each of those arms held powerful weapons."

"Whoa," said Renji, and the others all seemed to agree with that sentiment.

"Three faces," says Kuchiki Byakuya, almost to himself, clearly realizing now what significance Gin and Tousen had.

"I didn't think anyone but myself knew of that old legend," says Aizen. "I am glad it has not been entirely forgotten."

Zaraki interrupts again, with his usual casual disregard for the moment. "I dunno 'bout you people, but it's fucking cold in here. If there ain't nobody left to beat up around here, I'm headin' back to Soul Society."

"Good idea," agrees Ishida Uryuu.

Inoue Orihime pulls out of her embrace, then holds her hand out to him. "Are you coming?" she asks, smiling so brilliantly he can hardly look at her without being blinded.

He hesitates, then reaches out to take her proffered hand in his own. It is tiny within his, pale and soft and breakable. The trust inherent in her fingers curling against his palm nearly takes his breath away.

Aizen decides.

"Lead the way," he says.

**XxxxxxxxxxX**

**A/N:** Apparently I'm a giant sap, because writing this made me weepy as hell.

The stuff about Aizen Myo'ou is true enough, as far as I know, according to all the websites I could dig up. I found it extremely interesting and am wondering if KT chose the name while knowing about it. I hope so, much as I doubt it.

If you think Aizen is out-of-character, I won't blame you, but neither will I apologize. I think the redemption path is a valid path for the manga to take in the future-- if not in the incarnation I've painted out here-- and thus I don't believe an Aizen like this is an impossibility. Decide for yourself.

Anyways, enough of my rambling. Thank you for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it. :)


End file.
